Like the day before, Peter found himself drinking in the scene of the cafeteria more than actual beverages as he perched on the corner of Erica’s lunch tray, the aroma of chocolate milk and boiled carrots wafting in a steamy haze about the space.  Today was already shaping up to be more positive, despite losing Lisa as a partner for the history project in first period, and Peter was determined to make the rest of his tenure at the school a successful one starting at this moment.  Fewer students bustling toward their tables had slowed down to gawk at him, which was comforting as well.

In fact, the only real hiccup during the meal for Peter had originated from a cluster of three guys in football jerseys who had stopped behind Lena, whispering to each other with stupid grins on their faces while looking condescendingly on the diminutive freshman.  They didn’t have long to get into the mumbled conversation, though, before Erica was spinning around in her chair and delivering a glare fiery enough to split skulls.  Obviously taking the hints, they’d jostled each other and sauntered off to a farther end of the room to eat.

                  Peter was mostly just glad to be out of the second art class.  Mercifully, Alita had sat next to him and kept steely eye contact with Mandy as the latter entered the classroom.  This successfully steered the overly creative watercolors painter toward a different corner of the room, ensuring she wasn’t given the chance again to dunk him again.  Despite the protection, though, Peter had still felt the ponytail-sporting girl’s eyes drilling into him with surgical interest throughout the class.  Even when he glanced up in her direction as casually as he could as a polite encouragement for her to cease and desist, she continued watching him like a lioness stalking a sickly gazelle.

It made his stomach turn to notice how evidently content she was with making him feel this intimidated.  Her eyes bored through him, taking on that same cold and mathematical intent that chilled him to the marrow before she’d let a half-smirk cross the corner of her mouth.  With a flourishing twist of her ponytail around her fingers, she’d return to her artwork as though nothing had happened.  Meanwhile, by the end of the period, Peter was left with a dusting of sweat on the nape of his neck.

                  “Is everything okay, Peter?” Alita had pressed, clearly sensing the uneasiness in the five-inch-tall scholar’s hunched form as he pretended to be hard at work on copying a picture from a sketchbook of a wolf.

                  “Yeah.  Everything’s good.  I’m just thinking,” Peter insisted quickly, scribbling another tuft of fur onto his drawn beast, which wasn’t turning out particularly impressively due to his distractions.

                  “She’s not bothering you still, is she?”

                  “No, she’s- I mean… no.  It really is fine,” Peter insisted awkwardly.  “All she’s doing is looking.  I’m used to that.”

                  “Okay,” the girl sighed with hesitant acceptance.  “Well, if you want, I can keep sitting here during our other classes.  Make sure she doesn’t… um…”

                  “I’d appreciate that,” Peter said with a relieved smile.  “Really, I would.  Thanks.”

                  “You’re welcome.  I figure everybody deserves to be able to sit in class without worrying that somebody’s going to make them go swimming,” Alita said, frowning slightly at the realization that she may have made a faux pas, but Peter gave a genuine chuckle to let her know it was all right.

He always found it easier to connect with people the sooner they stopped treating him like his body was composed of egg shells.  Alita seemed willing to talk to him like a normal student and person, which above all else was what the freshman yearned for in interaction with his fellow and usually much taller human beings.  If he could ensure he had at least one ally like her in this and his other classes, it would be a far pleasanter semester.

“Hey.  Earth to twerp,” Erica droned, prodding her brother gently in the shin with her pinky finger and jostling him back into the present moment.  “Are you going to eat anything, or what?”

“I guess.  I’m not feeling real hungry today.”

Erica gripped a fork in her other hand and arced it over Peter’s head, spearing a lettuce leaf doused in Italian dressing from her plate.  Depositing it between her lips, then, she crunched down and frowned a little.

“Mom told me to make sure you eat.”

“You’re kidding.  I’m not six anymore,” Peter groaned as he sat up and pulled himself over the rim of the tray to observe his somewhat unappealing options.  The salad, a muffin, and a small boat of tater tots.  Far less interesting than staring around at the throngs of students.

“Yeah, well, maybe when you start eating like a normal guy she’ll stop saying it,” Erica pointed out, twirling the fork between her fingers and swallowing the bite of salad.  “I’m not your babysitter, though, so just pick something and eat it so I can tell her you did, okay?”

“All right,” he sighed, knowing his mother and older sibling just had his best interests at heart.  Besides, having survived a full day and a half of public high school already, he was beginning to see that keeping his strength up would be a key to thriving.  He broke off a mushy lump of the muffin in his fingers and began nibbling idly at it on the edge of the tray, which seemed to satisfy Erica, who returned to eating her salad and conversing with the girl next to her.

“Hey.  Peter,” Lena whispered from Erica’s opposite side, leaning closer to her friend’s tray.  Her hand was cupped around her mouth to try and project her words to Peter alone.

“Yeah?”

“Can… we talk for a second?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.  You mean, like…”

“Alone.  Is that okay?” she whispered.  “I just wanted to talk about yesterday for a second.”

“Oh.  Right,” he said, realization dawning again.  Somehow, he already had a slightly sinking feeling of what she might want to discuss, namely about his misadventure that ended with him jammed into her clarinet by an unconfirmed assailant.  She’d agreed to keep silent on the matter after he’d begged her to, knowing that his mother would have him bundled him out of the public school wasteland mere minutes after the account came out, but it surely was putting a strain on her knowing that he might still be in peril.

In truth, it was a weight on Peter’s shoulders as well, though he dared not share that with anyone.

“Erica?” Lena said, giving her friend a tap on the shoulder to draw her attention in the other direction.

“What’s up?” Erica answered with a half-giggle as she turned around, still grinning from whatever gossip her other friend had been sharing.

“Is it okay if I take Peter over to the other hallway?  Just for a second?”

Erica’s smile instantly faded as her brow furrowed.  She batted a dirty blonde lock off her cheek and grimaced with suspicion, then snorted.

“Why?  Did you two start dating when I wasn’t looking?” she asked in her trademark grab for information through ruthless teasing.

“Actually, yes, and we were gonna go make out in an empty classroom.  You can come watch if you want,” Lena answered smartly.

“Whatever,” Erica groaned with a suddenly disinterested shrug, clearly eager to have the story on her opposite side continued as she turned back again.  “Can you be back in a couple minutes, though?  I’m still trying to figure out how to get us both to classes without pulling a muscle.”

“Absolutely,” Lena promised, laying her hand down flat on the tray for the freshman to board.  Peter was happy to discover the hand was free of french fry grease today as he scarfed down the last of the muffin scrap and clambered onto his sister’s friend’s soft fingertips.  After a nod from the hand’s owner, he comfortably seated himself in the center of her palm and set his hands on her thumb for extra support, anticipating the unpracticed balance.

He felt as though the breath could fully rush back into his chest after Lena had walked out of the cafeteria with him.  There was something about the sheer scale of the place that made it difficult for Peter to achieve an equilibrium, and he found himself somewhat grateful for a reprieve in the hallway that led toward the music wing, though certainly not grateful for what he feared was coming up.

“This should be good,” Lena announced quietly as she held her cupped palm at chest height, turning a corner into an alcove near the first office door in the hallway, which appeared to be empty except for the pair of them.  She leaned against the wall and patted her short brunette locks down with her free hand.  “I’m sorry I’m being funny about this, Peter.”

“No, it’s fine.  I… know I kind of asked something big of you yesterday,” he admitted with some embarrassment, twiddling his thumbs and focusing his attention on a crease in the expanse of Lena’s peachy palm, unwilling to look her in the eye just yet.

“I understand that you want to be here, Peter, I really do.  I mean, I… know I can’t really know what it’s like, being you, but… I’d just feel so bad if something went wrong when I could’ve done something,” she said.  “Plus, you know she’d kill me if anything ever happened to you.”

“Yeah,” Peter sighed, reflecting on the staunchly matriarchal attitude of Suzanne Clark.  “My mom can be kind of... like that, I guess.”

“Well, yeah your mom would, too.  I actually meant Erica.”

Peter had to let out a puff of disbeliving air at this suggestion.  “Right.  Erica would kill you.  You remember that she’s the one that got stuck with chaperoning me here and taking me to every single class, right?”

Lena’s gaze, somewhat intense given the serious subject she wanted to discuss, softened at this guilt-ridden display.

“Peter, you… know she cares about you, right?”

“Yes,” Peter said.  He was indeed aware of his sister’s general concern for him, no matter how oddly she chose to show it.  Still, it was hard to believe that at least a small part of her if not the majority strongly desired the responsibility of the miniscule freshman’s caregiving to be placed elsewhere.  If she were to find out about his mishap of woodwind entrapment, it struck him that among her first emotions might be joy at the plausibility of him being returned to the custody of their mother for continued home tutelage.

“I’m serious,” Lena pressed, bringing her hand higher until their eyes were more or less level.  “She’d have somebody’s neck if they laid a finger on you.  You know that.  And then she’d have mine for keeping it from her.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I know you think I’m just saying it to make you feel better, but I’d hate to be whoever it was that did that to you yesterday.  Especially if Erica ever did find out.”

“Are you going to tell her?” Peter drawled resignedly, still keeping his sights fixed on the cushy flesh of Lena’s palm.

The seventeen-year-old paused for a moment.  Peter could hear a lump being swallowed in her throat before her lips parted again, releasing an exasperated sigh.

“No.  No, I’m still not, even if I… know I probably should,” she said, giving Peter cause for a rush of butterflies in his stomach.  Maybe things weren’t so doomed after all.  “I couldn’t, after what you said yesterday.”

“All I want is a real shot at making things work here.  Maybe once people get used to seeing me… riding around in people’s hands and stuff, it’ll be okay,” Peter suggested optimistically.

“Let’s just say this, though,” Lena said.  “Can you please look at me?”

At last lifting his chin and granting eye contact to the girl, Peter bit his lip, willing himself to stay contented.

“Yeah?”

“You really do need to keep an eye open.  I don’t just mean trying to be careful, I mean…. maybe trying to take notice, so you could be ready if it happens again.  Has anyone been acting weird around you in the last day?”

Peter had to hold back a flood of laughter.  He probably couldn’t accurately predict the number of people who’d acted weird around in the last twenty-four hours if he had a calculator and a yearbook.  It was like almost every day of his life, existing under the casual study of curious onlookers like some kind of circus freak, magnified times a hundred.

“You know what I mean,” Lena said, sensing that the real answer was probably a very high quantity.  “Anyone in particular?”

No real contemplation was required for Peter to come up with the names and faces of those in the school who had showed particular interest in not only being near him but engaging in close contact.  Mandy certainly sprang readily and creepily to mind.  In fact, it seemed entirely possible that she was the one responsible for his misfortunes.  Not that he could prove a thing now, of course.

“Maybe.  A couple.  Like that girl we met in the hallway yesterday at lunch,” he said.  “But I really didn’t see who it was.  There’s nothing I or anyone else could do it about it now, even if I did want them in trouble for it.”

“I know,” Lena said, lowering her hand back down again and setting off into the hallway again.  “Just promise me you’ll tell me anything else you think of.  I’m kind of in this now, too, whether I want to be or not.”

“Thank you, Lena,” he said as she re-entered the lunchroom.

“You’re welcome,” she answered, catching the eye of a still-suspicious Erica, who was leering comically at them from the table.  “Now let’s get you back before she actually thinks we were making out.”